


Shattered Memories (Prompt Dump)

by EchoesofMemory



Category: Mad Max Series (Movies)
Genre: All Hail Maestro Cheedo, I promise, It happens in the wasteland, Other, There are some women mentioned too, They were slaves, nothing graphic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-03
Updated: 2016-08-08
Packaged: 2018-07-29 03:35:29
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 638
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7668583
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EchoesofMemory/pseuds/EchoesofMemory
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which I occasionally rediscover prompt dumps and write tiny ficlets.</p><p>Help.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> … I found a prompt generator. It’s a thing of beauty. I found some that would work. Hehehehehehehe…
> 
> That woman was the companion of infamy and the companion of war.  
> On Sunday I became a noble.  
> He is the slave of madness.  
> It was time to torture faith.
> 
> And then for fun... 
> 
> Once I was a negotiator, now I am a demon lord.  
> I’ve got my goblets - now I’m going to hit something.
> 
> http://www.seventhsanctum.com/generate.php?Genname=writeprompt
> 
> That’s the generator. There are some funny ones down in the comments.

Furiosa, despite her claims to the contrary, knew that she could no longer consider herself a child of the Green Place.

Yes, she was Vuvalini born.

But the War Boys had ripped that from her. She was infamous, the Bag of Nails, killer of Immortan Joe.

The sick War Boys worshipped her every step. And it sickened her.

\--

Toast watched Capable. She was attempting to explain some of the Old World faiths to the War Boys, who were confused.

“But that’s something we do,” one complained as she explained Christian communion.

Toast slid off her perch. “Well, Joe wasn’t original, was he? He took what he knew of different religions and bastardized them. Valhalla isn’t real, you know. He stole it from a group of people called the Norse.”

They all stared at her, stricken. “But then why did we die? What was the point?”

Toast shrugged. “That’s something I could never figure out. Probably because it was easier to control you if you wanted to die.”

She waved at Capable and left, ignoring the silence behind her.

\--

The old Vuvalini laughed as the War Boys rushed to fall at Furiosa’s feet. When she looked at her with wide eyes, she told her, “I guess you’re their queen now.”

Furiosa sighed. “It’s always Sunsday.”

The Vuvalini laughed again. “It is, isn’t it?”

Furiosa began to carefully pick her way through the prone figures. “That makes you one of my nobles, I guess.”

She tilted her head. “I can see it now. ‘On Sunsday, I became a noble.’”

She laughed again.

\--

Max stared at the green pillars. Somewhere, there, were the five women who had helped hold the spirits tormenting him at bay.

It didn’t last long - nothing could keep insanity away out here, not forever - but it had lasted longer than any other, and it seemed like his ghosts wanted him to help those women.

Glory had glared at him for days after he slipped away in the crowds.

Now he was heading back, in a salvaged car, with goods for trade and scared and silent women in the back.

He had traded precious water for them, and now he was bringing them to freedom.

The slavers had laughed and given him three extra women.

“They’ll kill you in your sleep,” they sneered.

He had shrugged. “I won’t sleep.”

He hadn’t, and Glory and the others had been worse for it.

But freedom was in reach for those women.

And him.

\--

Joe Moore looked out at his tiny kingdom and turned to Kalashnikov. “We used to be negotiators.”

Kalashnikov bared his teeth. “True, but the world went to hell.”

He clapped Joe on the shoulder. “Now we’re gods.”

\--

Cheedo slipped between two fighting War Boys, rolling her eyes all the while.

Her eyes finally caught the deceptively plain looking cup and she lunged for it, holding it aloft once she had it.

Every War Boy froze, staring at her in surprise.

“I have the cup, now kneel!” she demanded, glaring as none of them moved.

She felt the urge to tap her foot as they shuffled, most refusing to kneel.

“She didn’t fight,” one muttered.

Cheedo scowled and grabbed a convenient pole. “Kneel or I’ll use this!”

One by one, eyeing the pole, the War Boys sank to the ground. “All hail Maestro Cheedo, ruler of the mess hall.”

Cheedo smiled, satisfied.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One day I’ll write that apocalypse-born desert shaman Max AU.
> 
> One day.
> 
> Also, this damn movie has stolen my whole life, help.
> 
> That second to last one was supposed to be funny. It is not.
> 
> All hail Maestro Cheedo!


	2. Six Sentence Challege #1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So.
> 
> This happened.
> 
> Like, most stories have the War Boys behaving.
> 
> What if they didn't?

Why shouldn’t they help themselves, after the way they’d been treated?

They were used and abused, not really sick at all, or so they’d been told.

What was stopping them from taking whatever they wanted?

More importantly, who would stop them?

Who would dare stand against their might, they who ruled Gas Town, the Bullet Farm, and the Citadel?

(Not even she could hold against them, with her pretty girls at her back, useless and glittery.)


End file.
